


To Be With You

by chervilspotatoes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Confessions, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Insecure Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, POV Viktor, Viktor can hide nothing, implied Bottom Viktor, vulnerable victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-11 00:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12311499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chervilspotatoes/pseuds/chervilspotatoes
Summary: Viktor is amazed by Yuuri. Going to college, being the best skater in the world, having a strong relationship with his family. Yuuri even knows how to cook and condition a leather couch. And Viktor? Viktor is a washed up old man. He’s got his pretty face, he supposes, but most importantly, yet incomprehensively, he has Yuuri.Viktor’s skin is chilled by the ice. Cold, like before he met Yuuri. He’s not that person anymore. Yuuri makes him feel so warm and safe. Wrapped in Yuuri’s love, Viktor is helpless. Viktor knows he’s not worthy of Yuuri, but maybe he can prolong the illusion that he is if he gives Yuuri whatever he wants.





	To Be With You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Back from a long hiatus. I am one of the many Sherlock fans who migrated over to the Yuri on Ice fandom in January. I couldn't shake this idea once it came-I love and hate the many misunderstandings between these two.

Viktor feels the soft sheets on his naked back. Yuuri is pressing him into the bed, covering him what feels like head to toe. Yuuri cups his cheek, delicately circling his ear. Viktor’s hair whispers over his temple, displaced by Yuuri’s hand. His eyes fall closed, reveling in his fiancé’s touch to his face. Yuuri settles closer, wrapping his other hand around the back of Viktor’s neck. Contained as he is, Viktor feels so safe and loved, sure nothing could be better in the world. Yuuri opens his mouth and speaks.

“Viktor, it’s time to get up. Viktor. You’ll be late.”

Viktor pries his eyes open, seeing Yuuri dressed for running. The last thing Viktor wants to do now is go running. His right knee is not appreciating the return to regular abuse and his entire body protests with soreness and pain. It thought it was done with this regimen. Viktor did too. 

But, in order to be in competing form by the time competitions start, Viktor is beginning his training during the off season. He never thought he would be returning to the ice full time and so he did not watch his diet or exercise. His flexibility has greatly decreased and his muscles do not seem to remember how to skate. 

Viktor looks at Yuuri, who is puttering around their St. Petersburg apartment trying to not look nervous about being late. Viktor rises out of bed and throws on his running gear, masking how much his knee is paining him with a cheerful “Almost ready, my Yuuri!”

They run in silence. Yuuri likes to listen to music while he runs and Viktor is grateful for the chance to not pretend running doesn’t hurt with every step. If he hears Viktor’s harsh breathing through his headphones, he hopes Yuuri assumes Viktor is out of shape and panting. 

At the conclusion of their run, they enter their rink and move to one of the rooms adjacent to the ice. Laying out exercise mats, Yuuri leads Viktor through a host of stretches to work on his flexibility. Yuuri is so knowledgeable about these things. Viktor is amazed by Yuuri. Going to college, being the best skater in the world, having a strong relationship with his family. Yuuri even knows how to cook and condition a leather couch. And Viktor? Viktor is a washed up old man. He’s got his pretty face, he supposes, but most importantly, yet incomprehensively, he has Yuuri. 

Viktor smiles at Yuuri’s look of concentration as he stretches. Yuuri is so amazing. Viktor knows how it feels to want to just give up, but he is happy beyond measure that his presence, his attempts at coaching, were able to allow Yuuri to thrive. He thinks back to Yuuri’s performance before The Banquet just over a year ago. Yuuri fell because he did not have a stable foundation. Viktor is happy to be that foundation for Yuuri to build on. “You can do better than I ever did, Yuuri. Bury me in history,” Viktor thinks. 

“Deeper than that, Viktor. Lean into the stretch,” Yuuri instructs. Viktor, seated, leans further over his right leg, feeling his knee protest at being stretched. A gasp escapes without his bidding and Yuuri looks at Viktor in concern. 

“Don’t stretch too far. If what you were doing before was your limit, don’t push it,” Yuuri admonishes. Viktor feels his cheeks flame. 

“What are you going to do today while I practice, Yuuri?” Viktor asks to distract himself and fill up the emptiness in the room. 

“I was going to walk around the city some more. Practice my Russian.” Yuuri likes to walk crowded areas and listen to the conversations happening and pick up words. 

“Were you going to order anything new from a restaurant?”

“No. I’m still not very good at reading Cyrillic letters. It all gets mixed up with English in my head.”

Viktor understands. Yuuri likes to practice reading Russian with him, which makes Viktor swell with pride. Yuuri doesn’t only acknowledge that reading is his weak point, but shows this weakness to Viktor and trusts him to help. Viktor likes to think of Yuuri speaking and reading and knowing Russian. It’s something that will never leave him entirely, Viktor’s mark on Yuuri. Years from now, he will see a Cyrillic sign and be able to read it. 

.

Viktor sends Yuuri away when he skates. At first, Yuuri was disappointed. Viktor doesn’t know if he still is. Maybe Yuuri knows he won’t be competition anymore. He’s not competition for anyone now. He’s just a joke. An old man past his prime trying to relive his glory days, the press would say if they saw him now, rubbing his knee and panting harsh breaths of pain. Every jump he does, sharp spikes lick up his right leg and radiate all the way to his forehead when he lands. If he lands. He’s learned his limits a little over the last month. The pain is bad enough now that he has to stop or he will barely be able to bend his leg in the morning. 

Viktor arranges himself spread eagled on a corner of the ice. The biting cold numbs a little of his pain. Viktor wants to cry. He can’t make the comeback Yuuri expects of him. Yuuri wants competition, a fair fight to the podium. He wants Viktor to be just below him on the podium, a statement that Yuuri brought the Living Legend Viktor Nikiforov to his knees in every aspect of his life. And Viktor wouldn’t mind conceding defeat to Yuuri on the ice, where he hasn’t failed to win a competition since the fateful day he twisted his knee while landing a quad lutz and tore a meniscus. Viktor rubs at it furiously now, supine on the ice. If it wasn’t for that damn meniscus, Viktor could give Yuuri the competition he wants. He could train for hours and hours a day to get almost back to where he was at Sochi. 

Viktor’s skin is chilled by the ice. Cold, like before he met Yuuri. He’s not that person anymore. Yuuri makes him feel so warm and safe. Wrapped in Yuuri’s love, Viktor is helpless. Viktor knows he’s not worthy of Yuuri, but maybe he can prolong the illusion that he is if he gives Yuuri whatever he wants. Yuuri can have his apartment, he can have Viktor’s only friend, Makkachin, as his dog too. He can have access to all of Viktor’s money, to spend according to his whim. He can have Viktor’s body, given freely and completely. He can have Viktor in competition with him for one year to show everyone that he is the best skater in the world. Just please, Viktor begs an imaginary Yuuri while struggling to his feet, stay close to me. 

.

Viktor wishes he could experience the end of each day at the beginning; they’re his favorite. He can almost hear his mother scoffing that “dessert is meant to linger in the mouth, Vitya. Something nice to remember after eating dinner.” Viktor knows he’s impatient and wants everything or nothing. He doesn’t do well with middle ground. Body still half numb, Viktor walks to he and Yuuri’s apartment. He remembers how cold it was before without Yuuri in it. Swinging open the door, he sees Yuuri’s thighs hugged tightly by a pair of yoga pants. And Yuuri’s feet, covered with striped socks. What a shame. 

Yuuri sees the direction of Viktor’s gaze. “Dinner is ready,” he smirks at Viktor.

Viktor swallows heavily. He knows Yuuri is talking both about dinner and dessert. “What did you make for me tonight, my Yuuri?” he trills.

“Just some ramen with vegetables. Nothing fancy.”

For Viktor, there is everything fancy about ramen with vegetables, hand prepared by Yuuri and timed to coincide with his arrival. “Well Yuuri you know I think all the food you make is fancy. And delicious. Vkuzno,” Viktor finishes in a low voice.

Yuuri knows what that tone means. His pupils expand and his eyes turn half seductive. “You better eat it all then, Viktor.”

Viktor does. Both dinner and dessert. 

.

Viktor is worn out beyond belief, exhausted lying next to Yuuri. He wraps his arms around Yuuri’s back and pulls him so they are chest to chest. Viktor spends a couple moments just looking at Yuuri’s face. Yuuri slings a leg over Viktor’s and Viktor is happy to arrange their limbs so they are intertwined from collarbone to toes. Viktor would love to tuck his face into Yuuri’s shoulder to sleep but that puts too much of his weight on Yuuri’s slighter frame. Instead he reconsiders their positioning and drapes his upper body over Yuuri’s chest, moving his right leg with difficulty so it extends straight out behind him. Yuuri is quick to pull Viktor more securely over him and wrap his arms around his back, squeezing slightly. Viktor can feel Yuuri’s heart beat against his own like this. He thinks his heart leaves him while he sleeps and goes to Yuuri, simply dropping through Yuuri’s ribs and basking in being where it belongs. Viktor can tuck his face into Yuuri’s neck in this position without worrying about putting his full body weight on Yuuri. Just half of it. Yuuri chuckles and digs his nose into Viktor’s neck. The action makes Viktor tingle anew. He thinks longingly of being bitten and claimed as Yuuri’s. 

Lulled half to sleep by exhaustion and Yuuri, Viktor slurs Russian into Yuuri’s neck. It’s a good thing Yuuri isn’t fluent and only understands some words. “I love you more than anything, Yuuri. My body breaks to please you and I welcome it. Because once it breaks, I fail and you leave. And then I die.”

Viktor hears Yuuri speak secretly into his neck in Japanese. Viktor is too close to sleep to pick up anything besides his name and “I love you.” Viktor sleeps. 

.

Viktor stands at the display, knee radiating pain like a fire radiates heat and shame flushing his cheeks and weighing down his heart. Before him are painkillers. Viktor selects a large bottle and pays for it with what he has in his pockets rather than his card. Yuuri would wonder what he bought when he saw it on the statement at the end of the month. Viktor hates keeping secrets from Yuuri but he has no other choice. It’s not a good secret, not a surprise he has no shame in hiding from Yuuri. No, Viktor is purposely obfuscating what he’s doing today with no payoff later. Viktor feels like a lie. He looks at the ring on his finger and feels a wave of sadness wash over him. He is betraying what the hopes the ring represents. Viktor imagines walking up to Yuuri and removing the ring from his own finger, offering it to Yuuri while apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry Yuuri! I guess it’s true; I don’t know what love means. I’ve betrayed you so and if you knew why you would only be more disappointed.” Would Yuuri be angry with him? Viktor doesn’t know. He wishes Yuuri would be. He would prefer to face Yuuri’s anger rather than Yuuri’s tears. 

.

Viktor wakes with a start that night, jerking Yuuri awake underneath him. Yuuri looks up, half blind but still concerned with his hands gently cupping Viktor’s shoulders. “Viktor?”

Viktor doesn’t say anything for a long moment, trying to catch his breath and hide his watery eyes before Yuuri could see. Unfortunately, Yuuri sees and makes a sound of distress in his throat. Yuuri pulls Viktor beside him, pulling Viktor’s longer limbs so they entwine with his own and pushing Viktor’s face into his collarbone.

Touching Yuuri from head to toe like this, Viktor can feel starkly how he shakes Yuuri with his breathing and his sobs. Slowly, Yuuri’s hand starts moving along his back. Viktor feels ashamed his knee doesn’t hurt for the first time in weeks with the painkillers he took before bed and feels another broken sound rise out of his throat. The story breaks out of Viktor before he decides to tell it.

“My mother, Yuuri. She-she said…” Viktor’s voice breaks and he can feel the ribcage against his own shudder. “Yuuri!” he exclaims, pained and sharp. “You’re crying!”

“Yes, Viktor. You woke up hurting,” Yuuri answers simply in the measured tones of someone crying. Strong and resilient in his pain in a way Viktor could never be. Pain that Viktor brought Yuuri. Viktor cries like a doll. Yuuri cries like a real man.

That realization brings Viktor to propel himself forward through at least a part of what bothered him while he slept. “My father beat her. He never tried to hurt me. Just told me I wasn’t worth it. He said I was, I was a mistake that tied him to this stupid cow. And the day he left my mother threw a big party. She never paid me much attention but after the party she looked at me and said, ‘Viktor, love is a lie. People don’t really love each other. They just want to use each other. I hope you do well in life.’ And she patted my cheek and turned away.”

Yuuri’s fingers were digging painfully tight into his waist now. Viktor continued, “And I thought that for so long she was right. All I could see was people using each other and no one loved me. Yuuri no one loved me, not until you.”

“I love you, Viktor. You don’t ever have to doubt that. I’ll always be here.” Viktor shuddered. Sometimes Yuuri read his mind.

Viktor quietly asked, “Yuuri, can we?”

“What is it you want?”

Viktor grasped Yuuri’s elbow and guided his fingers into the cleft of his ass.

“Viktor do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

Viktor clung to Yuuri above him. He couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone besides Yuuri. Accepting Yuuri made Viktor feel so safe. He was exposed to Yuuri but he was safe, wrapped in his arms and his love. He always broke to pieces during and after but the breaking felt so sweet.

Their sweaty bodies remained intertwined until the morning. Viktor regretted nothing, despite the soreness he felt and how sticky he was upon waking. 

.

Viktor stops taking the painkillers. 

.

Only a few days later and it is time for Viktor as Yuuri’s coach to submit his papers for competition. Viktor fills out the familiar forms and looks up, blinking at the sudden darkness visible through the window. It feels like he just got back from one of his pitifully short practices. Yuuri stands, one hand leaning against the leather couch he conditioned, with a wrinkle between his eyebrows and an expression on his face Viktor doesn’t like. 

“Viktor. I want to talk with you.”

“Okay Yuuri, just let me take a shower first!”

Viktor flees the scene. He absentmindedly strips and enters the spray of water, thinking more than washing. That was the look on his face Yuuri had when he said that in Barcelona one day after they were engaged. Whatever Yuuri wants to talk with Viktor about, it is serious and Yuuri has almost certainly already made up his mind about it. Please, Viktor thinks as he runs his hands through his hair. Please don’t break up with me. 

Viktor dresses completely. He doesn’t want to be torn to pieces while only wearing a fluffy robe this time. His knee feels marginally better from the hot water and he is able to walk to the couch and sit without limping. 

Yuuri sits a couple feet away, with both hands in his lap. Behind his glasses, his eyes are nervous but resolute.

“I don’t think you should compete this season.”

Viktor is taken aback. “Yuuri, why?”

“Viktor, I know about your knee.” The hand gesture toward it makes Viktor feel flayed open. “I was watching the competition when you hurt it, and if it’s causing you so much pain, I don’t think it’s a good idea to try to compete on it.”

Viktor scrambles to try and cover up his body’s failure. “Yuuri, the pain will lessen with time, you’ll see. It doesn’t hurt that badly anyway. It’s just not used to being on the ice.”

Yuuri’s gaze is still resolute. “That’s what I was hoping when you started. But it’s not going away, Viktor. It’s getting worse.”

“It’s not, Yuuri! I can still compete on it one more year and-“

“Viktor.” His voice is commanding and demanding compliance. “Are you lying to me?” Yuuri stares straight into Viktor’s eyes, leaning toward him and looking almost angry.

Viktor shatters. He feels his eyes fill and the liquid overflow, streaming down his cheeks. He opens his mouth several times before any sound comes out. “I can’t. I tried but I can’t. I’m so sorry Yuuri.” Viktor buries his face in his hands. He doesn’t want to see when Yuuri stops believing in him, stops loving him. His whole body shudders as silent sobs wrack through him. He’s ashamed of how much of a scene he’s making, but he can’t stop. He’s losing Yuuri, the only thing he’s ever wanted to keep in his life. The only person he’s ever loved. The only person who’s ever loved him. He sees the ring on his finger and cries harder. The time he really needs his body to come through and do what he wants, it fails him. He hates his knee more than he’s ever hated anything. More than he hated his father, more than he quietly resented his mother, more than all the people who just couldn’t see him despite being on the ice with him or in his bed. 

Yuuri is clutching at Viktor’s shoulders, holding him and trying to raise his body from being curled in on itself on the couch. Viktor raises his head to see Yuuri distraught, tears forming in his eyes. “Viktor,” he intones. “Does one more season really mean that much to you?” 

“This season meant everything, but my damn knee!” he strikes it in frustration and sorrow, relishing the shock of pain. Yuuri grabs his hands and holds them tight. “It was going to be for you. I was going to dedicate all my programs to you and skate so beautifully you couldn’t help but love me and leave no doubt in anyone’s mind who I belong to and make you so proud!” Viktor’s tone becomes softer, less strong. “And standing on the podium beneath you, silver at best after having been blown out of the water, you could have everything you wanted.” He finishes in a whisper. 

“Why were you skating to lose?” Yuuri asks, tears streaming but looking confused.

“Only to lose to you. So you could beat me and everyone would know you’re the greatest skater who ever lived just like you want.”

Yuuri drops Viktor’s hands in surprise. “Viktor, I don’t want to humiliate you!”

“No, no, Yuuri, it’s no humiliation to lose to you.”

“But I don’t want everyone to think that of you! I don’t want to shame you Viktor. You are the legendary skater, more than me. You competed much longer than I have, more than anyone has. And you won so many times. _You_ are the greatest skater who ever lived.” His tears are falling in earnest now. “How can you think I wanted you beneath me? I want to stand beside you!”

“Then why did you ask me to stay in competition another year?”

“I thought you wanted to! You looked like you were longing for competition and being back in the game!”

“I don’t want to compete, Yuuri! I just want to be with you!” Viktor almost yells.

“But,” Yuuri begins. “Viktor.” He places his hands on Viktor’s cheeks, gracefully curling around his ears. Viktor is as pinned as he would be with spears in his shoulders. “Stop hurting yourself for me.” Yuuri’s tears begin anew. “I don’t want you suffering. I want you to be happy.”

“Please. Please,” Viktor pleads, half choking and coughing.

“Anything, Viktor, don’t you know?”

“I’m happy with you. Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you. Why would I leave you?”

“Because I’m not good enough. I’m not enough. I’m hollow inside, Yuuri. I was hoping you wouldn’t ever notice but I am just a pretty shell. There’s nothing inside.”

“Viktor. Viktor, look at me. That’s not true. You are so full of love and vibrancy. You are overflowing.”

Viktor shakes his head vigorously. “You _are_ ,” Yuuri insists. “And if one person in the whole world deserved to be loved it is you. You have given for so long, Viktor. Let me give to you. Give me one moment.” Yuuri leaves Viktor, crumpled on the couch.

Yuuri returns and slides to his knees before Viktor. He reaches for Viktor’s right hand, which Viktor gives to Yuuri. Yuuri begins sliding the ring off Viktor’s finger, which makes Viktor’s chest clench in agony, though Viktor makes no move to stop Yuuri. Holding both rings, Yuuri looks up at Viktor fiercely.

“Viktor, I know our cultures are different and I try to bridge them as much as possible. Japanese are more…indirect in our intentions than Russians are. So I want there to be no ambiguity. I bought these for us because I want to marry you, Viktor. You have given me so much in my life and I want you to be by my side. I want to be permitted to love you for the rest of my life. I want to see you age. I want to be beside you when I get fat again and every morning be able to kiss you. When we haven’t skated in decades and don’t want to anymore. That is what these rings mean. That you take and accept that, for forever. So, Viktor…would you accept?”

Viktor is speechless, overcome with love for Yuuri. Yuuri wants him no matter what. Yuuri is asking a second time if Viktor will have Yuuri. There will never be a time when Viktor would refuse.

“Yes. Yes, Yuuri.” He extends his fingers so Yuuri can guide the ring back where it belongs. As it slides over his knuckles, Viktor leans forward to kiss Yuuri breathless. Almost done with embarrassing confessions. “I hoped. I really hoped.”

Yuuri clutches Viktor to him then releases him and extends his own hand. Viktor reverently slides the ring onto Yuuri’s finger, overcome with love and exhilaration. Viktor slides to the floor and cries out in pain as his knee makes contact. Yuuri gets up and goes straight to Viktor’s hiding place, drawing out his painkillers. He pours two out into his hand and offers them to Viktor. Abashed, Viktor lips them straight off Yuuri’s palm. Viktor can’t hide from Yuuri. And now there’s no reason to try.


End file.
